


Coping Mechanisms

by Unforth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Body Horror, Brain washed Dean, Brain washed Sam, Brainwashing, Breathplay, Cock Warming, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Coming Untouched, Dark, Double Penetration, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Incest, Forced Orgasm, God Castiel, Godstiel - Freeform, Hallucinations, I Don't Even Know, Implied Castiel/Sam Winchester, Implied Crowley/Bobby Singer, Leviathan Castiel, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Orgasm Addiction, Possessive Castiel, Rimming, Size Kink, Sounding, Stockholm Syndrome, Temporary Character Death, Wincestiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 01:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8512924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Castiel has gained the souls and risen to Godhood ascendant. He will not be happy until the Winchesters worship him.*This is flat-out rape**MCD is temporary**Seriously do not read this if you are uncomfortable with non-conny stuff*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outoftheashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/gifts).



> Well, Donald J. Trump has been elected the leader of the world I once thought was the "free world" but apparently that wasn't what half this fucking country wanted, so it's not to be. I live in a very blue state (New York) but I'm married to a woman and I have a biracial infant son, so basically I'm fucking terrified right now.
> 
> Everyone copes differently. When I posted on Tumblr that I was considering writing either the fluffiest fluff of the fluffy or hard core Godstiel rape/non-con, there was a rather impressive burst of support in favor of poor Dean getting owned by Godstiel. I guess a lot of us have similar busted-ass coping mechanisms. I'm not judging. This is the fic I was making up in my head last night as the only way to shut off the constant stream of anxiety considering the election results.
> 
> In short: I'm terrified, I got two hours of sleep, I have to take care of the baby all damn day today, and am an anxious mess, so here, have some dirty wrong bad smut.
> 
> My plan is to post this in short snippets throughout the day. Since I haven't fully decided what's going to happen, be aware that additional tags will be added, including possibly additional characters and additional sexual pairings. I'll try to remember to tag each chapter as I post it. I'm not editing this or reviewing it as I go, I'm just going to write and post and try to get whatever the hell this is done by the end of the day.
> 
> Notes:  
> MCD is temporary.  
> Rape is definitely not.  
> Godstiel turns the Winchesters into fucktoys. That's it. There's no redemption here. There's no happy ending. I'm not really feeling happy endings right now. There's Wincestiel. And maybe some other folks involved too. I haven't decided yet.

“I’m glad you made it, Sam. But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore. I’m your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your lord. Or I shall destroy you.”

Wide-eyed, Dean stared at Sam, his hands curled around nothing. Castiel threw the angel blade down as if it was trash, not a speck of blood on its gleaming silver length.

_I don’t know who or what this is but it’s not Castiel. It can’t be Castiel. I know Castiel, and he’s not…he wouldn’t…_

_…he wouldn’t say we aren’t family. I know we’re family._

The slightest hint of a frown quirked Castiel’s lips, his head tilting to the side in a silent challenge. Sam gave Dean a helpless little shrug.

“Well, all right then. Is this good, or you want the whole ‘forehead on the carpet thing?’” Bobby dropped to his knees.

_Bobby’s right._

_Castiel must still be in there. We need time. We just need more time._

Trying to signal his brother with his eyes, Dean dropped onto his knees on the hard tile floor and lowered his head. Shocked, Sam shook his head, stood tall, stood proud.

_Don’t be a fucking idiot. We can’t defeat him right now. Come on, Sam, get on your damn knees._

Dean had never wished more that Sam could read his mind.

He forgot that Castiel _could_ read his mind.

“You don’t believe in me yet,” Castiel tsked, shaking his head. “You will.”

As he had when he killed Raphael moments before – _an archangel, Castiel_ killed _an archangel, God we are so fucked_ – Castiel snapped his fingers.

Sam exploded.

Gore splattered the wall, splattered the back of Castiel’s head. Something long and red and slick and gooey caught on Castiel’s shoulder, fell down his front and dripped blood down the front of his trench coat. Unrecognizable body parts pelted Dean.

“Yes, Dean,” said Castiel with a manic, unrecognizable grin. “You _are_ ‘fucked.’” He made air quotes. He made air quotes, just like Castiel would have done. It didn’t matter. Dean _knew_ Castiel.

_That’s not my angel._

Blood soaked cold into Dean’s clothing.

“No. I’m no angel. I’m God. And I will make you – make _everyone –_ believe.” Castiel put a hand on Dean’s chin and tilted his head up. “I will make you worship me, Dean.”

Tears squeezed out of Dean’s eyes as, with a gasp, he came.

Holy fucking _shit_ that felt good.

He shouldn’t feel good. Everything was seriously _fucked_. Sam was _dead_. Castiel was…whatever Castiel was. The world was fucking doomed and he had no idea how to fix it and pleasure radiated through Dean’s body so powerfully that he choked on air.

“Dean?” Bobby asked alarmed.

“Hush.” Castiel turned his brilliant, inhumanly bright gaze on Bobby, grinned, and Bobby’s mouth disappeared. “We’ll talk later. Dean and I have to finish our discussion.”

“Ca…Cas…ti…” Dean tried to get the sounds out. Castiel’s blood-slickened hand – _that’s Sam, oh God, that’s_ Sam _–_ slid up to cover his mouth.

“You hush too,” said Castiel in a gentle tone of voice that was terrifyingly incongruous with the insane smile crinkling the crow’s feet around his eyes. “I cannot permit you to take my name in vain. But you will learn, Dean. You _will_ learn.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I...” Dean grunted as Castiel – he refused to think of this creature as _Cas_ , refused to call him Cas – fucked hard into him. “…do…” Their bodies rocked together, apart, together again as Castiel thrust, thrust, thrust, his fingers digging into Dean’s throat, his other hand on Dean’s hips as he knocked Dean’s face into the headboard every time. “… _want_ …” It felt good, it felt so good – _God_ – to have Castiel inside him. “…this!” With a grunt and then a drawn out groan, Castiel magicked Dean to orgasm and continued to fuck him. Pleasure drowned out the room, drowned out his thoughts, drowned out his fears and his plans and the whole world.

“Lie to yourself if you want.” Castiel’s voice was low and sinful and aroused and gorgeous and Dean wanted him, Dean wanted him so badly.

_No. I want my angel. Not this monster. Not this usurper. Not this God._

There was a flare of incandescent brightness against Dean’s eyes as his head slammed into the wood of the head board, the hand on his throat clenched, and Castiel granted him another climax without pausing.

“You can’t lie to me, Dean.”

He couldn’t breathe, because of the grip on his wind pipe, because of the rapture that Castiel had granted him. His cock felt swollen yet drained, achy yet desperate. He wanted – needed – _craved_ more – but he didn’t really. He just wanted _Cas_ back.

“I’m right here.”

The voice was like a palpable touch, trailing icy hot down Dean’s back, and his back arched as he came _again_ dry.

“That one was all you, ‘babe,’” said Castiel.

Abruptly, the touches to his body stopped, the cock buried in his ass withdrew, and Dean slumped limply against the bare mattress as Castiel moved away from him. He didn’t know where this place was. He didn’t know how long had passed since Castiel had killed Sam. He didn’t know how long it had been since Dean had last seen Bobby, suffering through his own version of hell reliving the last few days of his wife’s life over and over again. He didn’t know how many times he’d come. Countless times. Far more times than was biologically possible.

There were no biological limits. There was a new king. Castiel was a God.

“No.” Castiel’s voice, harsh and loud, sent a quiver through Dean and he flinched, wondering what would come next.

Castiel was _the_ God.

Sometimes resistance in Dean’s thoughts brought a rebuke. Sometimes, resistance was ignored. Sometimes, resistance was harshly punished. And every once in a rare while, and most strangely, resistance was rewarded.

“Still wrong.” A hand ghosted gently of Dean’s side, cold and dead and nothing like when Jimmy had yet lived in the shell that remained, nothing like when Cas was still Dean’s angel.

“What do you want?” Dean mumbled helplessly. He’d asked the question before, many times, and had never gotten an answer.

“I want you to acknowledge me for what I am,” Castiel said sadly. “I want you to worship me. I want you to want this, as you once did.”

_I don’t know what you want._

“That will never happen,” whimpered Dean.

_I don’t know what I want._

“We have infinite time,” said Castiel. His touch went away, his presence faded from the room. “You’ll learn.”

_I just want it to stop._

Dean didn’t know what _it_ was.

All he knew was that he missed Castiel’s touch, Castiel’s cock, Castiel’s overawing presence, Castiel’s voice, Castiel’s interest, the instant it was gone. The room was cold and lonely and it might be days or months or years of nothing before Castiel returned.

Dean wept to realize that he _wanted_ Castiel to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby is asleep. And wife is coming home early. I'll write as much more as I can...and probably call it done whenever I run out of time for the day.


	3. Chapter 3

“My _God_ ,” Dean screamed hoarsely into the stultifying air of the room. Castiel’s pleasure incinerated him, reformed him, molded him into the perfect form that Castiel wanted and granted Dean the pleasure that he could get no other way. It was a lifetime before he came down for the high, but as soon as the glow of it faded, he craved it again.

“Good boy,” said Castiel smugly.

“Again,” pleaded Dean. He was ashamed of the catch in his voice, ashamed of how guttural and broken the words fell over his abraded, worn throat. Castiel had been with him for days this time, or maybe weeks, or maybe months, because finally, _finally_ , Dean had figured out how to please his master, his God, and it was glorious. After so long being inadequate, it felt so good, so _right_ to finally be everything that Castiel had always known that Dean could be. He wanted to meet those divine expectations, wanted to exceed them. He wanted to be the only one that Castiel used for _this_.

“You are, Dean,” cooed Castiel in his ear. “On your knees.”

Moving was monumentally difficult. Pleasure yet jellified Dean’s muscles, but in its wake the dull, constant pain was already returning. He couldn’t face feeling as awful as he did when he was alone. He couldn’t face when Castiel left. Rolling, come from their previous times dripping from his ass, dripping from his spent cock, beading off his chest, coating his hair, Dean got his knees and hands under him. Castiel flashed away and panic seized Dean, his heart racing, his breaths coming so quickly that black flecks formed in his vision. Then Castiel was back, his body beneath Dean’s, his huge, thick, perfect cock bumping Dean’s mouth. Dean needed no cues. Dean knew what to do. He had to be good for Castiel. He spread his lips wide and enveloped Castiel’s erection. Once, he’d thought it would be impossible for him to open his jaw wide enough to take the enormous thing. Once, he’d thought he’d never be able to take it all, to feel the caress of coarse pubic hair against his lips and chin.

Castiel had taught Dean. Dean also suspected that Castiel had modified his body to make it possible for him open his mouth, to deep throat. When it had first happened, Dean had been horrified.

What a fool he’d been back then.

Anything that made it easier for him to pleasure Castiel was a good thing. Anything he could do to ensure that Castiel stayed with him as long as possible.

“Such a good boy.” Castiel’s breath was hot against Dean’s slickened, loosened asshole, and a tongue slipped into him deep, far too deep, and it felt glorious. He couldn’t believe he’d ever thought rimming was gross, couldn’t believe he’d ever told Cas that it was something that Dean wouldn’t do.

A bolt of pure agony, like electricity, like searing fire, blanked the world. When Dean returned to himself he was screaming around Castiel’s cock.

_He punished me._

_Why did he punish me?_

_I can’t remember. Oh God, my God, I can’t remember. How can I make sure it doesn’t happen again if I don’t remember?_

_Why would you make it more difficult for me to serve you, my God?_

_I will have to work that much harder to satisfy him._

Castiel’s hips thrust up from the bed as Dean’s head bobbed down. He couldn’t breathe around Castiel’s cock. Some part of him still thought that should be a problem, but it didn’t actually seem to be, and it was impossible to keep a thought in his head with Castiel’s tongue lapping at his asshole, sending tingling pleasure through him. Dean’s cock was hard again, wonderfully, painfully so. As he pleasured Castiel, so Castiel pleasured him. That was how this exchange worked. That was how Castiel wanted to be worshipped, at least how he wanted _Dean_ to worship him. Each mortal worshipped Castiel in their own way, after all, but Dean was the only one who got to worship him like _this_.

A finger thrust hard into Dean’s hole alongside Castiel’s tongue and Dean sobbed and sucked and licked the thanks that he couldn’t express for the thick weight dislocating his jaw. A moment later a second later another finger penetrated him, a third, and within a few thrusts Dean was spread wide and he fucking _loved_ it. Castiel’s mouth moved away – Dean repressed a whimper – and then his eyes rolled back in his head as Castiel’s four fingers filled him deeply, deeper still, past the knuckled, over Castiel’s palm, to his wrist. Seeing to Castiel’s cock became impossible. All Dean could do was gasp and writhe against the hand within him and let Castiel fuck his mouth. Dean’s hole was stretched so tight, so open, that he could feel every movement Castiel made, every shift as the fingers came together and then bent, and bent, and _clenched_.

_I did it! I finally took the whole fist!_

“So…good…” Castiel growled. The fist within him jerked back, so large that it couldn’t fit back out through his hole, pressing gloriously against Dean’s prostate, and he came though Castiel hadn’t touched his cock – hadn’t touched his cock this time or any of the previous times.

Castiel never touched his cock.

Wave upon wave of bliss rocked Dean literally and figuratively as Castiel thrust his fist in Dean’s ass, thrust his cock in Dean’s mouth. The orgasm went on and on, rapturous, holding the pain and the longing at bay. The first spill of Castiel’s come on Dean’s tongue was ambrosia, and he sucked it down eagerly, sucked more and more. It was the only sustenance he received in this place, the only sustenance he needed. He sucked until he couldn’t believe Castiel wasn’t drained, sucked until his stomach was swollen an aching, and all the while Castiel fisted him and his orgasm lasted fucking _forever_.

_Thank you, my God, my Cas._

And then it stopped.

And then there was nothing in his mouth.

And then there was nothing in his ass.

And there was no other presence in the room.

Something Dean had done had displeased Castiel.

The hot feeling in his stomach suddenly felt like a curse, the ache settling into his joints only deserved.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m so sorry. Please come back.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I’d hardly recognize him,” said Crowley snidely.

Dean did his best to ignore the demon, ignore the obvious sneer in his voice, and focus on his task. Castiel’s cock was thick in Dean’s mouth and his only job was to keep it that way no matter what went on around him. Maybe if he succeeded, maybe if he was good, Castiel would finally take pity on him and grant him an orgasm. It had been a while. How long was hazy, but long enough that Dean’s body hurt constantly, his stomach rumbled hungrily even when he was full of Castiel’s come, and his legs would scarce support his weight. Intellectually, he knew himself to be incredibly aroused, but Castiel’s displeasure lingered and until it lifted Dean’s cock hung limp and cold between his legs.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffed Castiel. “He’s hardly changed at all.”

“I know, that’s what’s so remarkable,” Crowley said. “Centuries later and he’s still the same old Dean – less mouthy, though.”

Guilt flooded Dean. What was wrong with his mouth. He gazed up at Castiel and got a loving, confident, gentle smile in return. Ease returned immediately and Dean relaxed back into his task.

“I think you’ll find him far more pliant and giving than he used to be,” Castiel said magnanimously. Dean’s eyes slipped shut at the praise. It had been hard to learn to be pliant, hard to learn to be giving, and Dean had tried _so so_ hard. He could hear the pride in Castiel’s voice as he described Dean’s virtues now, and he glowed with pleasure.

He wasn’t back in Castiel’s good graces, though.

His cock was still soft.

“Would you care to experience him for yourself?” offered Castiel.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it,” Crowley chortled.

 _I have to be good_.

The touch on Dean’s back was a shock. He jerked, squirmed as the pads of the demon’s scorching fingers skimmed his skin, and looked pleadingly at Castiel.

_Please don’t make me…_

“Good boys share, Dean,” Castiel chided him.

Lowering his eyes in shame – not sure if he was ashamed of doubting Castiel’s care of him or ashamed that despite knowing Castiel’s wishes he still didn’t want Crowley to fuck him – Dean tried not to flinch as Crowley used a hand to tap Dean up to his knees, spread Dean’s ass cheeks, and slipped his cock easily into Dean’s come-filled hole. Castiel always made sure that Dean was ready for his pleasure.

Only Castiel’s hand on his head and Castiel’s praises murmured directly into his mind kept Dean pliant as Crowley fucked him. The demon’s cock was thinner than Castiel’s but longer, almost a tentacle, it seemed to writhe and curl within him like demon smoke, to touch him in places that shouldn’t be accessible. What little pleasure Dean got from the stimulation to his prostate was as ash, his cock stubbornly flaccid, but Castiel’s cock slowly thickened in Dean’s mouth and for that, he felt a small glow of satisfaction. At least Castiel was aroused his degradation. Small grunts escaped Crowley with each thrust as his movement grew harder, jerkier. His movements rocked Dean against Castiel, forced Castiel’s thickening erection deeper into Dean’s mouth, and Dean took it, savoring Castiel’s satisfaction.

“You’re right,” Crowley panted. “So pliant. Had no idea you were such a bitch, Dean. Fucking love it, don’t you? You gonna get hard for me? Gonna get hard for _daddy_? Bobby loves it when I do this…”

There was a determined poke at the slit of Dean’s cock and then something slid _into_ him, wriggling and solid yet flowing like air. Dean gasped, his thoughts screaming for him to get hard, screaming for him to come, screaming for the good feelings slowly diffusing through him to grow and burgeon and encompass and cleanse him.

“You told him about the other one yet, Castiel? Wonder what he’d think of that, bet the little prick would get off on it…”

_What other one?_

“…gotta teach this cockslut to get hard for me,” growled Crowley, grabbing Dean’s hips and fucking into him harder. “Gotta teach him to respect me, gotta teach him how to _come_ , gotta teach him to—”

_Does Castiel have someone else?_

With a wordless snarl and a burst of fury that Dean was relieved to be able to feel to his soul wasn’t directed at him, the air of the room crackled and then _snapped_ as Castiel flicked his fingers and suddenly the pressure with Dean was gone, the cock penetrating him was gone, the searing grip on his ass was gone, Crowley was _gone_.

“Damn,” muttered Castiel. “There’ll be consequences for that.”

_Oh no! What did I do wrong? Maybe it was directed at me. I’m sorry. I tried to be good. But if there are consequences, I accept them. Punish me, Castiel._

Dean whimpered in his throat, whimpered around Castiel’s cock, awaiting the pain and orgasm denial sure to come.

“Dean,” Castiel said soothingly, massaging his scalp. “No, no, no, that wasn’t your fault. Crowley didn’t understand that you’re _mine_. I let him play with my toy and he couldn’t respect them, so I dealt with him. Any repercussions will be for me to deal with. You don’t need to worry.”

_That’s me. I’m Castiel’s toy. What a relief._

Dean had just enough sense left to wonder why it was a relief, to worry that it was a relief, but then Castiel was tugging him up, tugging him off Castiel’s cock, dragging their bodies together, settling Dean in his lap, filling Dean’s stretched hole with his cock. With a happy sigh, Dean melted against his Lord and master. This was right where he belonged.

“My perfect boy,” Castiel breathed into his neck as he began to slowly, gently, tenderly rock their hips together. “Did you like what Crowley did to your cock?”

Dean colored and couldn’t say the words, but his thoughts betrayed him.

There was a touch to his cock slit again and he looked down to see something bright and gleaming but threaded with black strands of oily corruption penetration his dick, slipping with in, so incandescent that from within him it made his flesh glow pink. Unspeakable pleasure seared him.

_Finally…finally, I was perfect, I was good enough…I love you, Cas. I’ve always loved you. I was always yours. You were always my God._

Castiel fucked him, and his beneficent grace slipped deep into his cock, and wave upon wave of euphoria and ecstasy threatened to fricken _kill_ Dean.

But Castiel did not let him come.


	5. Chapter 5

“Please,” Dean sobbed to the empty room that had never seemed more like a prison cell, “please, Castiel!” He had no idea if his lord was listening, but he didn’t know what else to do but beg. “I’ll make it up to you.” He felt like he was dying. “Tell me what I did wrong, please – please!” He hadn’t come in months.

_I miss my angel._

_I mean my lord. I miss my God! I miss Castiel!_

_Wait—_

“You _still_ don’t know?” Castiel’s voice rumbled, exasperated, through the close, closed room and Dean jerked up from the bed, looking around wildly. Moving was agony, felt like his bones were shattering, the splintered fragments grinding his flesh to ground chuck.

“I need it,” Dean whimpered, collapsing back against the hard, pokey springs, writhing in pain. “I need you, Cas. Please!”

“ _Stop_.” The word reverberated with all the wrath of a vengeful deity, and Dean cowered.

“I’m sorry!”

“ _Not sorry enough_.” Castiel’s voice was otherworldly, screamed omnipotence, reminded Dean that he was merely the ant that Castiel could crush beneath his pinky at any moment.

_No. That can’t be how he thinks of me. Crowley said that Castiel has kept me for centuries. I must matter to him, right? I’m the only one he touches like this, the only one he allows to worship him like this._

“ _Is that what you think?_ ”

Dean half-crawled, half-slid off the bed and abased himself on the floor, cheek pressed to the ground, arms stretched before him, legs tucked beneath him, bare ass up in the air.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, groveling.

 _Maybe Castiel is finally going to let me die_.

The thought simultaneously brought horror and relief. Dean didn’t want to die.

Did he?

“ _Not as sorry as you will be…_ ”

A kick took Dean in the side and he doubled over as the blow reverberated through his already strained system.

“Is this him?” roared a furious, inhuman voice. Twisting, Dean looked up in time to see the demon, its face twisted and rancorous, skin ivory white, eyes pitch black, teeth rotting as Dean watched, as it reared back to kick him again. “Is this who you’ve been touching instead of me?”

Dean rolled from the blow, his back slamming into the blank wall behind him. Scrambling, using the wall for support, Dean clawed his way upright to face his attacker.

“Crowley wasn’t lying?” Dean’s voice cracked dryly.

_I thought it was just me._

_I actually thought you cared about_ me _._

_But you’ve touched this demon the same way you touch me._

_Why, Cas?_

“You think he can give you what I give you?” roared the demon, enraged.

“ _I know he can’t_.” Castiel’s voice echoed, deep and cold and unforgiving. “ _I brought you here to punish him as he deserves, as he remains obstinate despite all the punishment I give him. He’s not my good boy. Not like you._ ”

_I’m not Castiel’s good boy?_

_He chose a demon over me?_

_My God._

_No._

_My_ angel _._

 _I miss my angel so much_.

Teetering, Dean tried to dodge, but as soon as he could no longer lean on the wall his legs gave out and he sprawled to the ground. At least his unexpected drop meant his assailant missed, but his relief lasted only a moment. The demon was on him, atop him, shoving him against the ground, shoving the thin fabric that separated them aside.

“Is this what Castiel gives you?” The unmistakable blunted tip of a cock pressed against Dean’s hole. After so long alone he was dry and unprepared but the demon didn’t care; he pressed his hips against Dean’s ass and pushed hard. Dean’s hole resisted the intrusion, muscles clenched and protesting, and then his skin tore and he screamed as he was filled. “Did he let you fill him? Did he let you think you were worthy of him?”

_Cas, why? Why are doing this to me? Why are you letting him do this to me?_

The pain as the demon fucked him dry was subsumed by the wages of his addiction, the two separate pains combining, magnifying, growing and changing until Dean was pain and it was fantastic and awful. He hovered on the edge of blowing apart – not as if he were about to come, he didn’t dare dream that Cas would ever let him come again, but as if literally every atom of his being threatened to divide from every other atom and scatter across the cosmos.

“You’re…not…worthy…of…Castiel…” The demon snarled the words out between harsh breaths and violent thrusts. “The…only…one…worthy…was…my…brother…”

“ _Stop_!” For the second time, their lord on high demanded obedience, and even the demon obeyed and ground to a halt. Thick liquid – _it must be blood_ – dripped down Dean’s thigh.

“If he was still here—”

“I said _stop!_ ”

“—you’d listen to him, wouldn’t you, Cas? I know I’m not Dean. I can never be Dean. But please, Cas—”

“Cas?” Dean croaked.

“—please stop this. I love you, I’ve always loved you, and this isn’t you!”

“ _Sam_?” A hot, swelling feeling burst into life in Dean’s chest.

 _Hope_.

“Dean?”

_No, that’s impossible._

With a wet slap of flesh on flesh, the cock slipped out of him, the demon climbed off him. Moaning pitifully, Dean curled up on his side. The demon backed away from him step by step until he stumbled against the bed and fell into a sitting position. Blood coated his erection, made ugly stains over the front of his untied sweat pants.

“Even you couldn’t be this cruel, Castiel,” the demon importuned the empty air.

There was no answer.

“All this time, I thought…”

“…I thought this was the only way…” Dean mumbled.

“…I thought at least I could do this much right…” echoed the demon – echoed _Sam_?

“…I thought I deserved this for what I unleashed…”

“…I thought I could at least make you happy…”

“ _Cas_.”

With a snap and a flutter of wings, Castiel appeared hovering in the air where Dean could swear there had once been a ceiling. For a moment he was terrifying in his majesty, august, perfect, wrathful, vengeful, an archangel in full regalia ready to strike them dead. Then there was a burst of blackness, like demon smoke yet not, and Castiel – or, rather, the body that once was Jimmy Novak – fell to the floor. Illusion fell away and revealed the room a barren shack, the person on the bed definitely Sam, and Dean had no idea what was real and what wasn’t.

Except he still hurt so much that he couldn’t understand how he was still alive.

And he still craved Castiel – no, _Cas_ – like life itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take it back. There might be some semblance of a happy ending after all. Not quite what I was expecting but whatever.


	6. Chapter 6

“Good boy,” Sam whispered in Dean’s ear. He whimpered. Even after the past few months he could hardly believe his brother was still alive. Some part of him thought it must be the newest of Castiel’s tricks.

“Always such a good boy for us,” echoed Cas, running his hands soothingly down Dean’s sides again and again.

Except that whatever Cas was now, he wasn’t that Castiel.

_My angel…?_

The plaintive thought echoed through Dean’s mind. His body hurt, his ass was stretched, he _craved_ this contact, needed his orgasm and release as much as ever, and Cas was still the only one who could grant it.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas said. “I’m your angel.” Dean thought he was probably lying but he didn’t care anymore. The last two months had been so much better than the uncountable years before that he didn’t care if it was all bullshit. Throwing his head back, tears leaked from the corners of Dean’s eyes, his teeth dug into the thick rope gag shoved in his mouth, and he spread his legs farther apart, made more room for his brother and his angel.

 _Maybe I’m dead. Maybe this is, somehow, heaven_.

No. Dean was going to hell.

He was so completely damned.

He’d been damned since the day Cas became God.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” whispered Sam.

Two cocks shoved gradually, gloriously into Dean and all thought disappeared. Two sets of hands soothed him, two bodies sandwiched around him, and Dean let all his thoughts go. Only when they did this could he let all his thoughts go.

The two men exchanged words that were incomprehensible to Dean and then began to thrust alternately, filling him deep, stretching him wide, _loved_ him.

This was what he wanted. This was all he’d ever wanted.

No. Wait. He hadn’t wanted Sam, had he? That had never been part of—

“Shh,” whispered Sam, or maybe Cas, or maybe both of them. “This is what there is now. This is what we want.”

Oh.

That was okay, then.

This was what Dean wanted.

There was no more thought after that, nothing but ever intensifying feeling. Cas’ hands slid down to Dean’s erection and balls as his brother grabbed his ass and steered Dean to maintain their thrusting rhythm. As soon as Cas’ fingers were on his cock Dean’s erection cracked him, broke him, flooded him with narcotic bliss. For a moment he thought he caught a glimpse of someplace else, a desolate woods, a world painted in shades of gray, but then it was gone, he was back in their cabin, back in their bed large enough for three, back in the house he was pretty sure he hadn’t left in weeks but he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t remember, and alarm built in him only to shatter as a second wave of orgasm washed away everything of Dean that was left.

“Perfect boy,” whispered two deep voices in his ears.

Their come sloshed as they filled him, his come splashed onto Sam’s belly, and Dean knew he’d never come down from this high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done.
> 
> Yeah I have no idea what this is either but I do feel better. If you've been reading along with me, thank you. I hope it helped some of you cope with this difficult day, too.

**Author's Note:**

> By the way if you're reading this and wondering why I haven't posted in two weeks - it's because my NaNoWriMo project is my Supernatural Mega Bang story (it's over 25k words at this point, but it needs to be 100k). I've got to get it done before I can focus on other stuff. That's why I wanted to finish Halflings by the end of October, but I wasn't able to. I'll try to get up some other shorts this month. I'm hoping that now that the election is over I can calm down and focus but given the outcome I'm not optimistic.
> 
> I love you guys. Stay strong, stay safe, and feel free to outreach to me if you need anything at all. We've got to look out for each other. No one else is going to look out for us.


End file.
